


Reunion

by Ystradwel



Series: Best of All Worlds [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Secret Identity, Tony Stark hacks into things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1293787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ystradwel/pseuds/Ystradwel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers believes most of his old friends died years ago, including Major Jones. So what does he do when he spots Major Jones and her brother Commander Williams in SHIELD HQ? With luck Rogers, Stark and Banner won't end up in too much trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how long this will be, probably around 4 chapters.  
> Edit on April 19, 2014: This story is also posted on fanfiction.

From the moment Captain Steven Rogers woke in the 21st Century, he lacked a purpose, a role in a world that seemed fine without him. After the Battle of New York he realized his country and the world still needed him. Through SHIELD he rediscovered a purpose for his gifts though he made few friends and lived for the job. Since SHIELD comprised much of his world anymore, he often spent his free time sitting in the head quarter's atrium reading. With time that atrium became more of a home than his own apartment. Between the day he froze himself and the day he woke up, many of the buildings he remembered either underwent renovation or were torn down. Other agents long since left him alone and continued about their on their way rather than gawk or disturb him. While his current series of books sometimes became difficult to read, he sympathized with Frodo.

"Matt, for God's sake let it go." A woman snapped.

Normally Rogers ignored the other agents' conversations, he disliked ideal gossip and refused to spread it. To his surprise agents loved to gossip amongst themselves, relaying the latest rumors and such. It was a good thing Stark never sat with him.

Something about the tone, inflection, and sound broke through to his mind wrapped around his book. The very sound disturbed memories from World War 2, memories he came to terms with only a year ago. Everything about the voice matched a Major he befriended during his time as a bond sale's man dressed in that stupid costume. A proud, independent woman, he automatically liked Major Amelia Jones, he remembered seeing in her everything that made him want to fight for his country. Despite their few meetings, his trust in her went beyond friend and family, beyond love. The resurrected feelings sang of loyalty.

Head up, he searched for Major Jones. No green army fatigues stood out amongst the swarm of black wearing agents. For a moment he traveled back in time, watching her rush about an army camp that just received heavy casualties. No one questioned Major Jones.

Following his recovery, he requested the files on all his old war buddies. Whatever SHIELD had on them, Furry gave him. It helped heal the wounds, easing the road to letting go and settling in the 21st century. The file on Jones conveyed little to no information. It listed a honorable discharge date, claimed she went on to earn a degree in medicine from John's Hopkins, but the trail went cold with her graduation date. With some help, he found her doctoral dissertation. After that she vanished, perhaps aliens abducted her or something, as he knew she would joke. Or she died in service to SHIELD or the CIA on a mission that went above his security clearance.

Either way, the woman, his friend, could not possibly be in the atrium, sounding as she had over seventy years ago.

"That was a horrible prank; he won't forgive you this time."

That sounded like Jones' half-brother Canadian naval Commander Matthew Williams. Undoubtedly the pair were siblings, they resembled each other too much for any other possibility. Yet they never explained their situation and both had parents listed. Both claimed adoption, but neither told the same story. From what he recalled the story changed according to the sibling, time of day and mood of the teller. All of his old comrades heard a wide variety of tales, everything from being raised by wolves to being left on the planet by aliens. Buckey assumed the siblings had no clue how they ended up with separate families in separate countries. Still it bugged Rogers that neither could agree whether or not they were twins or which one was older.

The Woman-Who-Could-Not-Be-Jones snorted, "He's never forgiven me for anything before. What difference does this make?"

Despite earlier failed attempts to find them, this time Rogers spotted them across the atrium. When he examined their faces, his breath caught. The woman matched Major Jones. In the Major's uniform he would think his friend had survived, and by some miracle kept from aging. The replication of the slightest detail, everything from her stance to the length of her hair to the untamed cow lick frightened him. From what another agent told him, cloning was imperfect, and impossible to create a truly identical version of a person. How the man she spoke to matched Commander Williams terrified Rogers.

Regardless of his fears, Rogers let himself hope Jones survived somehow. Upon closer inspection he realized she looked slightly older than Jones and carried herself differently. Something about Jones always suggested a slight uncertainty and discomfort with an unexplained burden. The woman in the atrium displayed none of those signs.

Still, the woman and the man she argued with could not be Jones and Williams; he shut down the hope and accepted the cold hard truth. For his own good he should return to his book and the road to Isengard to rescue Merry and Pippin. Settling back into his book, Rogers struggled to get the pair of his mind, mostly because they still stood in the atrium.

He gave up when Fury's right hand, Agent Maria Hill, approached them, "Jones, Williams what are you doing here?"

The woman called the man 'Matt' much as Jones had called her brother. Could the man's name truly be Matthew Williams? While he acknowledged how common the name must be, how many 'Matthew Williams'' looked identical to a man from World War 2?

The woman replied, "We need to see the Director."

"He's not expecting either of you."

The Commander Williams doppelganger sighed, "We're not here officially. Our Bosses think we're somewhere else."

"Where?" Agent Hill asked.

"A DDR competition," the woman laughed.

While Rogers had no idea what the woman meant, it amused Hill.

Without another word Hill ushered them through security and into an elevator. For a moment before the doors slid shut he thought Jones' eyes met his.

During the war Jones and Williams had access to all sorts of high level information, and no one asked for their IDs when entering a secure place. Early in the war he remembered Jones walking right into Eisenhower's office, the general had welcomed her without rebuke. Much like Williams and their friend Sir Kirkland, an enigma surrounded her. None of the others, save Kirkland, dared stroll unannounced into Eisenhower's office, yet existed in a hierarchy of their own.

Other officers followed them about all the time, jobs appearing a mix of secretary and body guard. Jones once called hers, a Captain David Jackson, her 'babysitter' and 'a general nuisance'. Jackson took a bullet for her during an ambush. Though he lived, the army discharged him and recalled Jones to D.C. The way the army valued her safety baffled him and irritated her. He never found out what made Jones so important.

Perhaps he could. He realized that someone her importance had a complete record with death date, burial and all relevant information. As her friend he deserved to find out if she still lived. Fury would never tell him, but Stark might be able to find out more.

Hopefully Tony wouldn't do anything too illegal.


	2. The Search Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger recruits Stark, and Stark and Banner begin searching for Major Jones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews and kudos. I never planned to include Banner, but here he is.

Rather than ask for Stark's help by phone, which Rogers still struggled with, he opted to pay him a visit. Besides, keeping his query outside of SHIELD's knowledge would be best. After work finished for the day, and turning down a dinner invite from Romanov and Barton, he arrived at Stark Towers before dinner time. In all likelihood, Pepper would invite him to join her and Stark, and Banner if he still lived in the tower too. The door man waved him through.

"Steve," Pepper smiled when he approached her, "It's good to see you. How are you?"

"I'm fine ma'…Pepper, and yourself?" One day he would remember to use her first name without a silent reminder.

Pepper sighed, "Alright, Tony and Bruce are locked in one of the labs again. They've been in there for two days experimenting on something. Do you think you could get them out?"

Could he extract Stark and Banner from experiment? While within the realm of possibility, he doubted they would listen long, probably long enough to eat dinner. When he told Pepper this, she nodded.

"I do have a favor to ask of Stark, it might help," Rogers suggested.

"Try, I'm running out of ideas. Just nothing illegal, I don't need Fury busting through the doors again."

"Of course."

With directions from Pepper, Rogers wove his way through the maze of Stark Tower. The number of labs reminded him of old evil geniuses from the movies of his childhood. He supposed that so long as Stark didn't turn a psychopath invisible or create a monster, everything would be fine. Since Stark worked with electronics and machines, neither was possible, exploding buildings were however.

The telltale sound of techno-babble notified him that they moved labs, going from mechanics to radiation. Instead of interrupting, and possibly endangering them all, Rogers leaned against a wall to wait. Years of life in the Army and now SHIELD taught him how to stand for long stretches without feeling it.

Nothing else pressed on his mind, so it returned to the pair in the atrium as it had all day. Most noticed something bothered him, but only Romanov inquired into the issue; she clearly had not believed him when he said 'nothing important'. That woman could read people better than Peggy. Knowing she would ask cemented his reasoning for not accepting the dinner invite; for a secretive woman she asked a lot of questions. Despite efforts to secretly reach Fury's office by the time he arrived, the pair from the atrium already left, probably for their DDR thing. What was DDR anyway?

Perhaps he imagined things and mixed up the woman with his friend, but he swore he noticed a small scar on her left cheek. At least he knew Major Jones bore that scar, whose origin remained a mystery. The impossible similarities between the woman and Jones continued to baffle him.

Perhaps he yearned for his old friends so much he imagined the whole thing, or replaced a pair of strangers with familiar faces. Maybe he suffered from a form of PTSD; with everything he'd been through he needed to acknowledge the possibility. If he indeed mistook the woman for Major Jones and it turned out Major Jones died on a secret mission that Fury couldn't tell him about and Stark got in trouble for hacking SHIELD databases, then Rogers would wind up in a psych eval. For causing such trouble, Rogers would likely be taken off field assignments until the doctors pronounced him mentally fit again. After all, SHIELD could not risk him going crazy during a critical assignment. Though, the SHIELD therapists originally pronounced him sane before Fury allowed him on active duty.

Was this worth the trouble?

What if something happened to Major Jones and gave her and her brother extended life spans and asking about them placed them in danger? What if it was a clone? Or a different person altogether who SHIELD hid from the world. Did 'DDR' mean some secret assignment or clearance? Could asking endanger lives?

"Cap'n," Stark cut through the dilemma, "What brings you here?"

If he didn't ask now, Rogers realized he would regret it and damned the consequences as he would see it through to whatever the conclusion it might be. "I need a favor."

"Well this is a first, when have you ever asked me for anything?"

Banner rolled his eyes, "leave it alone Tony."

Shooting a look at the other genius, Stark turned back to Rogers, "What do you need?"

"Information," he pulled out the folder Fury gave him a year ago on Major Jones. "Major Jones was an old war buddy of mine, Fury gave me her folder, but there's nothing about what happened to her after the war."

Stark paged through the folder, "standard stuff, but no death date and no mention of family or grave site, not even an old address. I see the problem. So you want me to find out what happened to her?"

"Whatever you can."

"Alright, simply enough," Stark agreed, "I'll get started in the morning."

"Thanks, and Pepper said to tell you its dinner time."

"Right, Bruce, Cap'n lets to eat."

Through the sheer force of his personality, Stark dragged Banner and Rogers along behind him. Pepper would be pleased with the dinner guests. With Rogers joining them, she would have someone to talk too opposed to listening to him and Banner talk shop.

~(-)~(-)~(-)~(-)~

Around noon the following day, Tony Stark set about addressing Rogers' request before returning to his and Bruce's project. Find the grave of a dead Army Major? Child's play, which he told Rogers last night. Something about that reassured Rogers, but Tony suspected he withheld information; perhaps he had a fling with this Major Jones. It explained Rogers' interest in finding her. He couldn't blame the Cap'n as Major Jones was a very attractive woman; something about her eyes drew him in. The day before he barely glanced at the photo, but now he realized he might have seen her during his weapons construction days. Or Major Jones had an equally attractive granddaughter in the Air Force. Perhaps he should set up Rogers with the prospective granddaughter.

"Jarvis, look for all information Major Amelia F. Jones born July 4th 1920, U.S. Army field nurse, assigned to…" flipping through the file Tony realized how many places she had been posted in such small amount of time, "…just scan this list of postings. Also, I want to see this address of hers."

"Very good sir, I will compile the information."

"Tell me when you finish," he proceeded to join Bruce in the lab they had been using.

They worked on a way improve Arc Reactor technology through gamma radiation. The experiments required much more attention than Rogers' search for his late friend; he knew the Cap'n would understand. After all, she likely died years ago and he needed to improve the reactor this year.

Roughly three hours later Jarvis interrupted their work to announce his findings. The results intrigued Tony because they exactly matched the file Rogers gave him yesterday, no avenue Jarvis pursued offered up more information. Even Bruce found the issue interesting, and since they had reached a stalling point they choose to take up the quest. Sometimes during research and development they required a change of pace, drastic though today's might be.

"So that's Major Jones?" Bruce took her photo when they entered a computer lab one floor above their previous workshop.

"I think she's Rogers' old flame."

Bruce shook his head, "From what I heard Rogers loved an English woman, Peggy Carter."

"A guy can love multiple women."

"Yes, but Rogers?"

"You got a point there."

Tony took back the photo and put it under a scanner, "the strange thing is I think I've seen her before."

To his surprise Bruce nodded, "Same, with a bunch of Senators."

"I saw a doppelganger in the Air Force."

Opting to put off digging through SHIELD databases, Pepper would kill him if Fury had their home invaded again, Tony ordered Jarvis to scan all photos in world history for anyone who looked remotely like Major Jones. He also instructed a search for the twin, Captain Matthew Williams; perhaps the files had more on the brother than the sister, it was the 40s after all. If that failed, he and Bruce agreed to crack SHIELD databases and see what Fury hid. As they waited they speculated over what might make Jones and Williams important enough for Fury to erase most information about them.

"Immortality?" Bruce suggested.

Stark shrugged, "Possibly, me, I like the idea of WW2 human experiments gone wrong."

"They look normal enough…"

"They're high ranking officers who look nineteen, there's nothing normal about them."

On that Bruce agreed, however, "Immortality would also explain their young age."

"Like Wolverine?"

"It's a possibility."

"Half-Asgardian bastards sounds better. I wonder if they're Thor's brats."

The look Bruce sent him questioned his intelligence, but shook his head and kept quiet rather than dignify that with an answer.

Stark rolled his eyes, "Don't be such a prude Bruce, Thor would thank us for finding his long-lived brats. It would save him the trouble of having more kids. 'Uncle Lok' has a nice ring to it huh? Do you think they'd call Thor 'dad' or 'daddy'? Perhaps some Norwegian word instead. Jarvis! What's Norwegian for 'Daddy'?"

"Pappa or Far are both used for 'dad'."

Was it his imagination or did Jarvis sound irritated with the request? No, not irritated, he sounded exasperated. Since when did Jarvis show emotion, normally he sounded bored.

"Well, I don't know about you Bruce, but I feel enlightened."

Eyes at the ceiling Bruce sighed and ignored him. After a year in the tower with him, he learned not to let it bother him, instead he found it amusing, like living with a bad standup comedian.

"Sir, I have found nothing new on Major Jones or Captain Williams. However, I found both in over ten thousand pictures."

Both scientists blinked, even in the digital age no one had that many photos of them.

"Put the earliest one you have on the screen."

By 'screen' he meant the giant thing that took up a whole wall in the lab.

"When is this?" Bruce looked over the black and white photo graph, "Where's Jones or Williams?"

Without asking Tony's permission, Jarvis drew a red circle around the now visibly image of Major Jones. Sure enough the same exact woman stood to the left of an old white man with a receding hair line. She had the same glasses and bizarre cow lick, though her face had a pinched look, as if she lived in constant pain.

"Jarvis," Tony asked, "Who's in the photo? When was this taken?"

Neither genius knew anything about photography.

"1857, after the Supreme Court case 'Dred Scott', the photo shows President James Buchannan with his cabinet."

The pair grappled with the idea. Despite their prodigious intelligence and phenomenal joint ability, a woman from World War 2 alive in the 1850s baffled them.

"I hope Thor likes being called 'pappa'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews welcomed


	3. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Steve take the news? And what was Canada irritated with America over?  
> Thanks for the support, and this is now and Ameripan fic.

No amount of squabbling could make the car go faster, so after twenty hours rehashing the same argument America and Canada fell silent. Most Nations occupied themselves during long flights through games or books, America and Canada bickered the whole flight. Canada admonished her behavior at the last meeting; America questioned the issue with putting a whoopee-cushion on Russia's chair. After all, she didn't slip ground glass into his drink or line his chair with tacks. While Canada conceded it was funny, he claimed she crossed the line when she sewed the whoopee-cushion into the seat and covered it up with fabric.

The driver, a Japanese military officer, dropped them off at Japan's reclusive house in the mountains. No one else lived within five miles, so they never disturbed anyone. They arrived six hours late so the others had already started.

Taiwan opened the door, "Hey! Japan's taking his turn."

America pulled Taiwan into a bear hug for the sake of it, she liked hugging people. It drove Germany crazy when she and Italy arrived somewhere at the same time and hugged him.

"So what's the plan for the weekend?" Canada asked.

Leading the way to the living room after they tossed their bags into the appropriate rooms, Taiwan replied, "Standard tournament rules, but Korea wanted to do teams first."

"I call Korea's team," America declared the moment Korea shouted; "I call America's team."

Other Nations rolled their eyes, Australia sighed, "Korea, we already said you and Meri can't be on the same team."

"Only 'cause we're awesome together," America shot back.

While she loved Japan, America preferred teaming up with Korea because they always won. Incidentally, the others refused to let them pair up for that same reason, citing 'let-other-people-win'. Well, they won unless Italy played too but normally he spent the whole time cooking pasta and making a mess of the host's kitchen.

India frowned, "let's do family groups."

"I'm not teaming with Meri." Canada snapped.

America rolled her eyes, "He won't drop the whoopee-cushion."

"Ve~ then where is it?" Italy had stuck his head through the kitchen door.

Pushing the matter forward, Japan replied, "Alright, let's draw names out of a hat."

In the end America teamed up with Italy, Canada with Japan, Korea with Hungary, Denmark with Prussia, India with Taiwan and Australia with Seychelles. To even out the latter's constant absence, Brazil joined America and Italy. Lost in the competitive bliss of their game and pasta, none of them could have possibly realized how deeply Stark and Banner delved into their existence.

_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_

Two days, ten thousand photos and a pack of German Shepherds later, Stark and Banner reached the end of their investigation. After all their efforts they hit a dead end. This woman, Amelia Jones, gained immortality, or a very long life span through some unnatural means, and wove herself into the fabric of the American government. That twin brother of hers, whom they concluded either merely looked like her or was her biological twin. Due to the evidence they concluded the pair shared no genetic relation, but the same mutation or immortality and that Williams was at least a hundred years younger.

"He's not going to believe this." Bruce commented as they gazed at the wall covering collage of pictures and notes.

Tony shrugged, "He wanted us to dig into her back ground."

"He wanted us to find her grave."

"She's not dead. She's in Tokyo."

Silence filled the room as they pondered how to break the news to Rogers. To learn a living war-buddy already survived two hundred or more years and worked for the American government… Neither anticipated this going over well.

"Do you think he has her address?" Tony turned to Bruce.

"What?"

Tony tapped a photo of Rogers they found with Jones and the rest of their little group, "They were close; when she got transferred stateside she must have given him a address to write too. Its war, he might not survive and share the information or if he does there's no telling how long he'll live because of the procedure."

Admitting the truth, Bruce nodded, "all true. We'll ask when he visits this evening. We can talk to her once she returns from Japan."

"I was thinking we should pay a visit before she gets back."

"Tony, she's over two hundred years old and the government has kept her a secret probably since George Washington. Her house will be heavily guarded."

"I doubted. Think about it, she's in all these photos but no one ever made the connection before, or if they did no one's talking. We've found some damned famous photos with her in them, some are in text books and no one's noticed her. She likely believes people won't invade her home."

Again, though Bruce hated Tony's plan, he had a point. Beyond basic security, which they could disable from the tower, unless she returned early it would go over fine. Though, he doubted Rogers would agree.

_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_

"Absolutely not," Rogers ordered when they suggested it to him after dinner that evening, "We are not breaking into Major Jones' home."

Well, Bruce sighed, Tony had his work cut out for him in convincing him to give up the address he admitted to having when talking to Pepper over dinner. From Tony's expression, he did not appreciate how difficult it would be to convince him. This was a dear friend, not a random curiosity.

Waving a hand at the wall, Tony replied, "you're friend isn't normal! She's two hundred years old and woven into the government. There's no telling what she's up to."

"Are you calling Major Jones a traitor?"

The way Rogers' demeanor darkened startled Bruce. Something about the idea of her being a traitor upset him, and worried Bruce. If this got violent because Tony accused her of being a traitor, the Other Guy would step in to finish whatever Tony and Rogers started before breaking down walls.

Stepping in, Bruce assured Rogers, "he's not accusing her of anything. I agree, she's not a traitor, if she were I doubted the United States would no longer exist."

"Well what about this," Tony ripped a photo off the board and shoved it in Rogers' face. "What do you make of this kid? I think he's like Jones and Williams, but there's no sign of him after 1965. How do you explain that?"

"That's Jonathan, Jones' baby brother." Rogers recognized the kid, "Jones told me he was at a mental asylum. After their parents died, he attacked her and nearly killed her before she defeated him. He gave her a nasty scar on her left side; she was very sensitive about it. After that he constantly attacked her, apparently tried lynching her once too."

"So she put him in a mental institute?" Bruce asked.

Rogers nodded, "Yeah. She said she wished for a different solution. If you're right about their ages, then Jonathan must have died in 1965."

Taking the picture back, Stark pinned into the board with a new sticky note. Why Stark opted for such a low-tech way of mapping the information confounded Bruce, but he refrained from asking why.

"Why do you say that?" Bruce inquired.

"Jones told me Jonathan was ill and she doubted he would live much longer. It must have been hard on her."

"Hey Cap'n," Tony called, "Did you know Jones cross dressed as an Air Force pilot under the name 'Lieutenant Colonel Alfred Jones'?"

That caught Rogers by surprise, "I knew Al; he was a good guy. Loved to laugh, got on the nerves of Sir Kirkland of the Royal Navy and Colonel Braginski from the Red Army."

"Major Jones and Lt. Colonel Jones was the same person. Jones wove her way so deeply into the government and military that they cleared for this cross-dressing."

"I-I-I…" Rogers headed for the door, "We'll talk tomorrow. I need to think."

_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_

How could this be? None of this made sense. His friend, an honorable, honest and cheerful woman was immortal? Major Jones struggled to lie over the smallest things, instead sticking to her choice and living with the consequences. That attitude drove Colonel Phillips batty. Her habit of insisting on knowing everything irritated the Colonel, but Steve remembered that Phillips regarded her fondly. Actually, everyone acted fondly towards her. Everyone trusted her implicitly, more than their own comrades or family.

For Steve that faith surpassed all his other allegiances, matched only by his love for his country. Wait had his devotion to the U.S increased when he met Jones? Sure he always loved his country, but now that he thought about it, that love grew when he went through the procedure and doubled when he met Jones. When she smiled he knew they would win the war. Her presence lit up the camp with each visit. No one ever admitted it out loud, but seeing her on the shittiest days turned everything around. Sometimes grown men cried on her shoulder as she hugged them; no one spoke about it, but no one viewed it as unmanly or improper. She was Major Amelia Jones, the brightest lit in the whole Army.

How could she lie to him about her identity? How could she lie to anyone about it? What did this make her? What was she? Asgardian? Mutant? Something else entirely? That she always looked 19 never bothered him before, he never acknowledged it before and now that he realized the oddity, he looked back on their own relationship with new eyes. Had she given something away during their many conversations? Whatever she was, she was only dangerous something attacked the U.S. He knew this in his heart, and knew that if anyone threatened her, they would have to go through him. But what caused this devotion? How could one person replace everything he held dear?

But did she replace it all?

_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_

"He'll be back," Tony asserted after Rogers left.

Bruce sighed, "I hope so. I hope he doesn't do anything stupid." Glancing at Tony he remarked, "I'm surprised you're not concerned he'll go to Jones' house on his own."

The device Tony revealed answered all his questions.

"When did you plant a tracking chip on him?"

"During dinner."

Really, nothing went beyond what Tony might do for information. For Pepper, they refrained from hacking SHIELD databases, but Bruce accepted Tony would soon if this lead died too.


	4. Loyalty, Suspicion, Exasperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is set in August of 2012. The lack of Captain America in Iron Man 3 made little sense since he's awake and working for SHIELD by then, so I have my own reasoning behind his absence but you'll find that out in the last chapter.  
> Thanks to everyone who left Kudos, commented and bookmarked.

Summer, 1941

Between the training and his general health issues, Steve Rogers collapsed each night, but woke before his less exhausted comrades every morning. Most of them considered him too weak to survive the training much less be selected for the Dr. Erskine's program. Whether or not he proved them wrong did not matter to him. Only he could determine how far his will to pass the training would carry him.

Before dawn he strolled out on to the compound, enjoying the quiet and the cool temperature. Soon, not long after everyone woke up, the heat would set in and ruin it. When he woke early enough, he preferred to watch the sunrise from underneath and oak tree. Today he woke on time, but found a woman sitting in his spot. For a moment he considered leaving her in peace, but when she glanced over at him he felt compelled to approach her. Something about her drew him in, assured him and left him at peace. He knew neither her name nor anything about her, but he trusted her. A strange feeling, but he embraced it; it felt right, natural.

"Good morning miss…Major," he corrected when he saw the oak leaf on her collar.

Pretty by any standard, she smiled up at him, "Morning private. You're up early."

Blond hair cropped just below her ears and clear blue eyes sparkling through her glasses, that magnetic pull strengthened.

"The camp's nice at dawn. It's quiet, relaxing."

The Major patted the ground next to her, "Sit soldier; watch the sunrise with me."

"Yes ma'am," he settled on the ground beside her.

The woman laughed, "That wasn't an order."

He smiled back, "I know, I just like to watch the sun rise beneath this tree."

"Enjoy these moments of quiet while you can. Take them with you during deployment and savoir the memories. It'll help keep you sane."

"Yes ma'am. I'll remember that." He replied, "If you don't mind my asking, but you sound like you've seen a lot of combat."

Which, itself would be strange because women did not serve in combat positions. Perhaps she heard stories, or as a nurse fighting to save lives she learned the same lessons as a soldier. A question she never answered.

"I'm Private Steve Rogers."

She shook his hand, "Major Amelia Jones."

"A pleasure to meet you ma'am."

"Please, call me Amelia, there's no one else around. So tell me, why the U.S. Army? No offense, but you're hardly army material. There's plenty you could do to help the war effort, code breaking, managing a business. These aren't glamorous, but this is a total war, everyone fights in their own way."

Before he replied, he considered his choices because she had a point. Every citizen played their role and kept the country running.

"My father died in the Great War." He started, she remained silent and listened to his answer. "I know all those other jobs are necessary, and I applaud the effort people put into them; really there should be a medal for civilian efforts… but that's not how I want to help."

"Why?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. My mother died when I was a teenager, and the ideals of our great nation kept me going then as they still do. The thing is I believe in them more than I do anything else, except my best friend Bucky that is. He's out fighting the war, and I have the right to do the same or die trying. I know what Dr. Erskine's serum will do to me if I'm selected. If I am, then maybe I can help bring the war to a close faster."

The woman studied him closely, "What makes you so special? Why would Dr. Erskine choose you over stronger candidates?"

Again, he shrugged, "I don't know. I only want to save lives and protect people."

Something in those eyes reflected his sentiments with the lives of millions of others who sacrificed themselves for their country. In a moment the sensation vanished, but in that moment he realized she was more than she appeared. When the sun rose, they parted ways. Later in the day, he spotted her speaking with Erskine and Agent Carter; agreeing with whatever they asked her. Colonel Phillips looked displeased, but he always did. The three, Erskine, Carter and Jones glanced directly at him before walking off.

_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_(~)_  
Present Day

Despite Stark's suspicions, Rogers knew Major Jones meant no harm and that her existence somehow tied into the fabric of the country itself. Whoever, whatever, she was she never meant any harm. The woman he met at Camp Lehigh and befriended during the war carried herself with an unfamiliar weight. Everything he remembered implied a search for her position, for a better understanding of herself. Something robbed her of that; it knocked her flat and told her to get up with only one leg. All Stark's theories about aliens and Asgardians ignored the truth awaiting discovery, but he and Banner wrapped themselves so deeply in technology they lost sight of it. Not everything had a complex explanation, sometimes simplicity meant a deeper truth that required less explanation not more.

Willing to bet Stark put a tracker on him before he left that evening, Rogers returned to his apartment and changed clothing. Leaving the discarded clothing on his bed, he headed for the train station.

Stark and Banner could skulk through the internet and SHIELD files to their hearts content, but he preferred the more proactive approach. Leaving his shield behind, it was too conspicuous, he caught a late train to Washington D.C. Alone on the train, he settled in for the ride, flipping through the book he brought with. After a while he gave up on reading and returned to going over every encounter with Major Jones.

That look in her eyes from their first meeting dogged his thoughts, asking why he thought he thought he saw something more in them. It questioned what it might be and what it might mean for him and their relationship. He accepted that she survived looking as she had seventy years ago, except in the eyes. Those years scarred her. Intangible marks crisscrossed her body and soul, defining the paths she chose. One of the pictures he took from Stark, a recent photo with President Santos, showed a more confident, settled woman than he recalled. Time had hurt her, but she had acclimatized to the burden chucked on to her shoulders.

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"Stark," Banner stuck his head one more computer lab. Both he and Pepper scoured the tower for wherever Stark secreted himself this time. Unfortunately Jarvis refused to answer when they demanded he tell them where Stark went. Neither believed it when it claimed it had no idea where he went.

"Banner," Pepper Potts trotted down the hallway, "Any luck?"

He sighed, "None. He's nowhere on this floor."

"Damn, where could he go? The suits are here and there's no record of him leaving."

Then it hit Banner. After Rogers left and went home, where he remained last time Banner checked the tracker, Stark promised to call it a night and that Jarvis would alter them to any change in Roger's location. Unless, Jarvis discovered Rogers had left not only his apartment, but New York City, Stark could be trailing him to Jones' house. Well, it looked like he would have to tell Pepper who, or rather what, they spent the last several days searching for.

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The town house in Foggy Bottom still stood, as did its neighbors. Red brick, and built in the late 1800s, it appeared too simple and unassuming for the extraordinary woman dwelling within it. On the train ride, strangely longer than driving, and the walk over, Rogers realized knowing the truth would change nothing about his feelings for Jones. When he arrived well past midnight he felt comfortable enough to ring the door bell and wake her up.

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Rolling out of bed and wearing on a tank top and shorts, America barely remembered to grab her glasses before heading down to answer the door. Sure her citizens were always welcomed to visit and so were her siblings, but it had better be important. Tomorrow morning she had to show up for work and jump right into whatever the President, his advisors and Congress cooked up lately. No one cared she spent the last two days wide awake hyped on coffee and energy drinks playing DDR. Without Kat Sisko, her assigned Secret Service Agent, to answer the door she had to turn whoever it was away herself.

Why did they have to wake her up?

Sounding more irritated than intended, she yanked the door open, snapping, "What is it?"

Her eyes widened and her jaw worked soundlessly when she took in who stood on her doorstep at two in the morning. Sure Directory Fury informed her that SHIELD found Steve Rogers and sure she visited him before he woke up, but she never expected him to show up on her door step. From the look on his face she wasn't what he expected either. Had morality and opinions on the acceptable amount of clothing changed that much? At least she didn't sleep nude.

The captain found his voice first, "Major, it's been a long time."

A thousand thoughts flew through her head. She should deny anything and insist he had the wrong house, that Major Jones died years ago; after all the line worked on other old comrades in arms. The others would kill her if she told him the truth and so would her Boss and Fury. If they found out. Still, she should protect the truth of her existence. If not lie than send him away never to reappear at her house and to ignore her at functions they both attended. A hundred options presented themselves to her.

"Too long Steve," she heard herself say.

What the hell was she thinking? How could she do this without consulting anyone? Especially the Conference. At the very least she should speak to Canada and get his approval or England's, maybe Ireland's or Japan's? Actually, given the situation approval from Germany might be best. Considering the past between them and both of them and Germany, his acceptance would mean more in the eyes of the Conference than England, Canada or Japan's. Russia, China or Vietnam agreeing would help her case too.

The rational side got cut off that night as she let Captain America into her home.

"You remembered my address," she remarked, leading him into the living room.

Strangely relaxed, he nodded, "I memorized it quickly."

Before they could settle and talk, she lost a battle to hold in a long yawn.

"I'm sorry, ma'am….Amelia…" he apologized, "I shouldn't have woken you up."

She waved it away, "it's alright. I'm used to functioning without sleep."

"No, I can come back tomorrow."

Exhausted and unwilling to argue, but also unwilling to send him out on to the streets, "I've got two spare bedrooms; you can sleep here unless you have other arrangements."

He looked sheepish the instant he realized the one thing he over looked.

America laughed, "You don't even have anything to wear. C'mon upstairs I have some things that should fit."

Since the clothing fit her male alter-ego's body, which existed when she put on a charm Scotland gave her in the early 1700s, she believed they would fit Steve too. She directed him to the guest bedroom where she still stored the male clothing, half of which belonged to Canada.

"Wear whatever you want, Mattie won't mind."

"Thanks. How is he?"

In his eyes she saw that he had no idea what she was, but that he did not care and never would. To him, she was and always would be Major Amelia Jones and no other identity mattered. That acceptance hurt. The look he had given her since he arrived was one so many others gave her, and it always changed. Soon as they learned the truth they treated her differently. Tomorrow she would become more than Major Jones, and he would come to terms with the information. For tonight she could be Major Jones again, friend of Captain Rogers. It hurt because of the pending change, one for which she braced herself.

No one ever considered her truly human once they discovered she represented the United States of America.

No one could.

Not even Captain America.

Tomorrow she switched from friend to the entity to which he owed allegiance and protected at all costs. Tonight he saw her as Major Jones for the last time.

When SHIELD pulled him from the ice, she refused to contact him despite Fury's insistence that she could help him adapt to the 21st century. Fury struggled to understand why. For her, so long as the Captain viewed her as her post-Atomic self then that innocence survived. All ties to that self died at dawn.


	5. Acceptance

The blare of her alarm clock forced America to choose between throwing against the wall and getting out of bed. Tempting as the former sounded, she rolled out of bed and lumbered over to the closest with her suits. Stupid bosses, not considering a personification’s human limits. Stupid video game marathons. Stupid people waking her up after midnight. Once her mind kicked into gear again she might think differently, but everyone knew better than to approach her before the first cup of coffee. At least she wasn’t pmsing. Showered, dressed and feeling marginally less zombie like, Amelia walked down stairs.  


Someone made bacon and eggs. The scent of fresh brewed coffee, properly brewed not that Keurig crap, perked her up.  


Who?  


No, Canada was back in Ottawa. Of course! Rogers woke before her and cooked breakfast. Perhaps he wasn’t as stupid as her boss or video game marathons. Since he woke her up at two in the morning he must feel guilty and planned to make it up to her by cooking breakfast. Bacon and eggs beat her plan of cereal and orange juice by a mile. The dreary day looming a head brightened, not by much, but still looked more pleasant than two minutes ago. At least she started it with a proper meal in her stomach.  


“Morning,” Rogers greeted her when she entered the kitchen.  


She held up a hand forestalling further comment and beelined for the fresh cup of coffee in her favorite mug. Every four to eight years she received a new mug with all her Presidents listed, the old joined the rest of her stuff in the basement. Two gulps later she felt human again.  


“Good morning Steve,” she replied, leaning against the kitchen counter. Perhaps she should get this over with. “I know why you came here.”  


“Ma’am?” Damn, he returned to calling her ma’am and he didn’t know the truth yet.  


A sad smile tugged at her lips, “you came here because you learned that Major Amelia Jones still existed. The truth is she and Commander Alfred Jones ceased to exist in 1945.”  


“I don’t understand. You’re Major Jones.”  


“I was. I was Commander Alfred Jones too.”  


None of this made sense to him, his eyes filled with confusion as he tried to work out what she meant. Rather than torment him, she plunged in, “Roger’s the truth is…”  


The door bell interrupted her.  


“I’ll get that ma’am.”  


Before she could say anything he fled the kitchen. Damn it all to hell, she had braced herself for his reaction and someone just had to ring her door bell. Though curious, she opted to remain in the kitchen and eat two slices of bacon. A wise choice she soon discovered and that she would arrive very late to the White House. What a fantastic start to her week.  


“Who the hell are you? Where’s Ms. Jones?” A woman demanded.  


America signed; her ‘babysitter’ had turned up early. For safety reasons that made sense only to her bosses, a team of four Secret Service Agents followed her about. Not many stuck around for longer than two years, some never made it passed one. Every time one resigned they called her ‘difficult’ and impossible to handle. Maybe she would go along with their ridiculous habits if they didn’t treat her like a two year old. None of them ever remembered the truth after resigning, not unless they stuck around for four years.  


“Jackie, Steve, it’s okay.” She stuck her head around the corner, “Don’t hurt each other. Jackie, that’s Steve, he’s an old friend of mine who needed a place to crash. Steve, that’s Jackie, she’s on the team the President assigned to protect me. No, Jackie he has no idea that I’m the personification of the United States of America.” She said the last in a single breath before Jackie could find some oh-so conspicuous way to ask if Roger’s knew the truth or not.  


No one got the chance to say anything else before Stark appeared on her door step too, “That would make sense if it weren’t impossible.”  


Behind Stark stood a reluctant Pepper Potts and Bruce Banner.  


“Jackie, be a dear and go tell the Boss I’ll be late.”  


While America hated calling on her ability to order citizens around she brought it forth to get rid of Jackie. The Secret Service Agent nodded and walked off, her eyes blank.  


Soon as Jackie walked by, Stark welcomed himself into her house, sauntering right up to her. That he tried to intimidate her amused America to no end and she let it show. No matter how he acted, he could never scare her, best to let him know that now. The silent battle of wills ended the moment Stark backed up a step, a glimmer of respect in his eyes. Well, she would see how long that lasted once he accepted the truth.  


Sometimes, when people learned the truth about Nations they backed away in horror. More than a few ran off down the street to tell people, but forgot the whole thing before making it several feet. Some people were inspired. They welcomed the truth and it became a key part of their being in ways she could never understand. A lot fainted and forgot not only what she told them but her as well. Part of her fear of telling Rogers laid in that knowledge. Her good, dear friend might not be able to handle the truth. If he fainted, he would forget any memory of her. That morning they met under the tree, the motorcycle she lent him, crying on her shoulder after Bucky died. All would be lost. Sometimes her existence stank.  


“So, who’s this boss?” Stark asked, trying to regain his balance.  


“President Matthew Santos. He’s expecting me but it can wait.”  


“So, you’re the personification of the United States of America? That’s not possible. You survived through some weird age gimmick. What planet are you from anyway?”  


“Earth. Which is this one, unless my house traveled to another planet and I didn’t notice.”  


Rogers stepped over, “Ma’am… Amy, just tell us the truth.”  


The young Nation rolled her eyes at the pair of them, “I’ve already told you. Whether or not you believe me isn’t my problem.”  


Afraid to say anything, she hoped he believed her; that he wouldn’t faint or run away.  


The other new arrivals, Banner and Pepper, explored her home as she spared with Stark and Rogers. From what she saw out of the corner of her eyes, Pepper took particular interest in the pictures on her living room.  


“Hey, Ms. Jones?” Pepper asked, “Is this you?”  


Everyone gathered about the picture she pointed to. The picture in question, one from the 1920s, America lounged across a tree branch holding a bag over England’s head as he tried to jump and grab it. Under the tree, Canada, Scotland and Wales had collapsed from laughing so hard; above them Australia, New Zealand and Hong Kong played tree-tag. As she remembered the moment, Ireland had taken the photo. That she managed to climb the three in a flapper dress and heels still impressed people.  


Laughing, America nodded, “That was a fun day. We didn’t get too met up often in the 20s.”  


“That’s your family?” Rogers asked, “It’s that Sir Kirkland and Commander Williams?”  


One-by-one America pointed out her family, “England, Canada, Scotland, Wales, Australia, New Zealand and Hong Kong. Ireland took the photo.”  
From Rogers' expression, he believed her. Somehow, without a word he accepted her dual identity. Perhaps to him it just felt right.  


“America, how is England?” Rogers asked, confirming her suspicions.  
Stark rolled his eyes, “Cap, you can’t really believe this story about personified Nations? I’ve heard of some fantastical things and seen even more, but this is impossible. Thor is one thing, she is another.”  


“When you see Thor again, tell him that if he doesn’t visit the Nordics, I’ll get an earful at the next conference. The Brits would like a visit too. It would be hilarious to watch Denmark and Prussia try to drink him under the table.” America mused.  


“Well,” Stark clapped his hands together, “That proves you can’t be telling the truth. Prussia was dissolved in the 1940s.”  


America shrugged, “Normally that would be the case, but he adopted East Germany to protect Germany from feeling pain while that part of the country was under Russia’s control. No one has a clue how he survived Reunification; most think he stuck around to keep Germany sane.”  


“That doesn’t make sense,” Banner pointed out.  


“Nor does most of our existence, but it is what it is.”  


“You’re lying, this is just what you want us to believe.” Stark accused her.  


“If you need further proof, hack the SHIELD database. My basic information is in there; but no one else’s because I refuse to let Furry have that information. Call Furry if you have too, he’ll be pissed you came here though.”  


Off to the side Pepper muttered something about that no being a first. The only who really heard her, Banner, chuckled. Stark scowled at them.  


Bored the conversation, and desperate for the breakfast cooling on her kitchen table, America turned to face Stark. Her bright blue eyes bore into his brown, showing him in a brief glimpse her history, her life. All those events, happy, painful, and bitter flashed across her eyes. Stark stumbled, hand flying to his head when the slideshow ended; that he remained standing impressed her. More than a few collapsed after that.  


“Tony,” Pepper stabilized him, “Are you okay?”  


Stark demanded, “What did you do?”  


“It was easier that talking,” America shrugged. “I showed you my how history in a second, it’s something we can do to our citizens.”  


After that neither Banner nor Pepper needed further explanations, but all four had more questions they wanted answers too. Before she answered questions, she insisted they all eat breakfast. Rather than eat, Stark decided to explore her house. When he asked about her basement, she told him that rules forbid anyone but the owner from entering a basement. In their world a basement was the only private place entirely theirs.

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“Hey, Amy,” Stark stuck his head around the corner, “Why do you have this?”  


The object in question happened to be America’s Sailor Jupiter costume. To everyone’s amusement, she went bright red. While Rogers had no idea what the costume meant, given how little it covered he could guess why it was embarrassing.  


“It’s for Halloween.”  


“Which is months away, and your face says it’s for something else entirely.”  


“It’s old.”  


“It still has the tag.”  


“Fine,” she conceded, crossing her arms and looking the posture child for petulance. “But what my boy friend and I get up to is our business.”  


Stark dropped the outfit as Roger’s jaw hit the floor.  


“You know what; let’s go see your library or something…” Pepper suggested.  


Unfortunately Stark and Rogers drowned her out, “You have a boy friend?”  


The young Nation rolled her eyes, “Course I do. Don’t worry, he’s another Nation.” She pointed at them both, “Don’t go acting like big brothers. I get enough of that from my family; they’ve already threatened him anyway.”  


“But…” Rogers trailed off. He had no point to argue with her, nothing that made sense.  


At least her siblings had done what brothers do, probably her sisters too, aunts, uncles, parents or however she thought of her family. While he knew she considered Williams and the British Isles family, he wondered how Nations’ knew who was related and who wasn’t? Did blood tie them together like humans? Or did they have some sixth sense that told them who was who? Was it based on cultural ties? Did they just pick someone and call them family? Even after their conversation, he knew so little about it all.  


“Right then…” Stark put the costume back in the closet; “Is Jonathan family?”  


America froze. Whatever Rogers expected, it wasn’t the mix of fear, hatred, sorrow and regret on her face before she remastered her emotions. An older, weary woman replaced the relaxed young women with the easy smile. For the first time he saw the toll of the years on her shoulders, finally glimpsing the burden she bore. Over two hundred years speaking for a growing nation, and the last seventy as an undisputed superpower took its toll.  


“Don’t say that name around me,” she whispered, eyes hinting at the immeasurable power lurking just below her skin. America took from Amelia, this wasn’t someone they could mess with.  


“Why? What’s so bad about saying Jonathan? He’s your brother.”  


“He’s dead,” she spat, dislike for her brother clear as day. “The twisted bastard got what he deserved.”  


Rogers blinked, “but he’s your….”  


“He’s nothing to me anymore. He’s a chapter in my history and nothing more.”  


“But Jon…”  


America cut Stark off, “Don’t say that name around me.”  


Why would she treat her dead sibling like this? From what he remembered from what she said in the 40s, she regretted what happened to him. He knew that one some level she blamed herself. Still, 70 years was a long time for her opinion to change. But family was family, no matter what they did.  


“What’s wrong?” Pepper asked, “What happened to him?”  


America looked ready to shove them out of her house, but she answered, “He died on August 6th, 1965.”  


Banner realized the significance of the date before anyone else, “The same day Johnson passed the Voting Right’s Act. He was the Confederacy wasn’t he?”  


“Exactly. He should have died in 1865 when the Civil War ended, but I was a fool and didn’t kill him then. I’ve paid the price for my short sightedness.” She held up a hand to head off their questions, “We have rules on how to deal with the death of Nations. For ones like the Confederacy, the human name is taboo until after a hundred years later. Speaking their name keeps their memories alive, making the adjustment harder for the citizens.”  


It looked like she appreciated the phone call from the President. The three avengers and Pepper listened as she assured everything was fine and that she would be in the office soon.  


“So,” America put the phone down, “Who wants to wander about D.C?”  


Three of the four frowned, the phone call from the President clarified her identity while making in clear he expected her in Oval Office as soon as possible.  


Pepper voiced her thoughts first, “Shouldn’t you go see the President.”  


“Eh,” she shrugged, “I’ve learned not to get scolded on an empty stomach. Later we can have lunch at Ben’s Chili Bowl.”  


“They have fantastic chili dogs,” Stark mused, “I haven’t been in years.”  


Nodding America headed for the stairs, “Right, let me change and we’ll go.”  


“Ma’amerilia,” Rogers struggled on a means of addressing her, “You were given orders, shouldn’t you follow them?”  


She stuck her head over the railing, “They were suggestions. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t ignored him and every other boss before. He’ll still be there when we get back.”  


“But ma’am, he said…”  


“So? It’s not like its anything important.”  


“How can you be sure?”  


“He called the house phone.”  


“Ma’am…”  


“Lighten up Steve, this’ll be fun.”  


A baffled Rogers turned back to his companions. The woman he remembered followed orders far more closely than the girl up stairs.  


Stark smiled, “I like her.”  


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After lunch, America bid everyone but Captain Rogers farewell. While Rogers would have preferred to leave with his friends she insisted he come with her to meet President Santos. The Security Guards waved them through without question.  


“Amelia,” Chief of Staff Josh Lyman called out, “He’s pretty mad with you.”  


America shrugged, “He’ll understand, besides it’s not like I’m not used to it. Josh, this is Steve Rogers. Steve, meet Josh Lyman White House Chief of Staff, former Deputy Chief of Staff under President Bartlett.”  


Josh shook Steve’s hand, “A pleasure to meet you. Amelia has told us all about you since you woke up.”  


“The pleasure is all mine, she’s been singing your praises too.”  


“I should hope so after putting up with her for fourteen years.”  


The men chuckled at her expense.  


“You’re gonna miss me in two years Josh.”  


The black haired man ruffled her hair, “Who says I’m going anywhere? I’m going to be here until they turn the lights off and drag me out.”  


“Only if another Dem wins,” she shot back.  


“Yeah. Go see the President before he gets angrier.”  


“Yeah, see you later Josh.”  


Rogers and Lyman shook hands again.  


The secretary waved them through into the Oval Office. President Matthew Santos, America’s first Latino president, scowled at her when he saw them.  


Leaning back in his chair, he asked, “Where have you been America?”  


“Sightseeing with Rogers, Stark, Banner and Ms. Potts,” America looked a little ashamed. She wasn’t, but he might believe it. Some said she treated her Presidents like a parent. “Mr. President, this Steve Rogers, aka Captain America.”  


The President stood and walked over to greet him, “Welcome to the 21st Century Captain. I wasn’t aware you knew America.”  


“We were war buddies, but I only learned the truth today. To be honest it’s kind of overwhelming.”  


“It can be,” Santos agreed, “and she doesn’t help matters.”  


“No sir.”  


A look crossed the President’s face that unnerved America. That expression never boded well for her.  


Santos waved for them to sit, “Captain, how have you been adapting?”  


“Slowly sir, it’s a bit difficult. I’ve started working for SHIELD, but it only helps so much.”  


“I’ve got a position open you might be interested in.”  


“Sir?”  


Oh God, America realized where this was going. Though it might be fun, she admitted.  


Santos smiled, “There isn’t a single Secret Service Agent who can really handle America. Most burn out after a year and a half. Last week, the head of her detail resigned because of exhaustion.”  


“You want me to replace him?”  


“She already respects and likes you.”  


Feeling ignored, America pouted, “I’m right here you know.”  


Both men disregarded her comment.  


Rogers glanced at her before turning to the President and nodding, “I accept.”  


America perked up, “Yay. This is going to be fun. Forewarning, I got stuck with bringing a guard on the annual family outing. This year we’re hiking across the Australian outback.”  


That almost made Rogers reconsider, but they got everything sorted before the end of day. The other Nations would throw a fit when they found out, but America could care less. This would be fun, she already scheduled a Star Wars Marathon, and Lord of the Rings and Star Trek and Indiana Jones and a whole lot more. To thank him for his past service and continued help, she would bring him up to speed with world events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for their support. Any last comments?

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are most helpful and inspiring  
> The story is continued in 'Of Captain and Country' and in 'Winter's Burning Light'.


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